


Semi-Accomplished

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ...ish, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Begging, Communication, Communication Failure, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Don't Try This At Home, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Smut, Gods be good we have communication, Internalised Homophobia, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Multi, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Porn and Humor, Role Reversal, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Topping from the Bottom, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-30 17:05:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12113286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Really, Robb doesn't mind that Theon wants everyone to think he tops. He probably should, but he loves Theon too much for it to be a problem.He does have one problem though:That Theonwon't.





	1. Chapter 1

Dinner with Theon's family. Robb can imagine few things more arduous in this life. Asha's cool, he guesses, if liable to drinking him under the table, and Theon's mum is nice, except so ill she's never actually there. But Theon's dad... crikey.

Still, he knows this is much harder for Theon than it is for him, so Robb doesn't mind tagging along for moral support. They're sitting across from Balon and Asha in a decidedly middling restaurant, and Robb loosely holds Theon's hand under the table. Balon gives him a withering look, even though Robb's fairly sure he can't actually see. Robb knows Balon blames him for Theon's coming out, thinks he turned his extra-straight son gay, which Robb knows is not accurate at all but middle-aged bigots are not exactly easy to persuade of such things.

“So,” Balon says, taking a long sip of beer, “Robb. Where you working? Still at the law firm?”

“Yeah,” Robb answers awkwardly. “I've even making money now.”

“Hmm.” Balon seems less than impressed, which Robb should have expected, and Asha rolls her eyes. Beneath the table, Theon squeezes his palm, but Robb doesn't mind really. “I suppose my son now wants you to take care of him all the time. He always was spoiled.”

Theon's ever present grin freezes on his face. “Dad,” Asha chides her father, but Balon just shrugs. Robb squeezes Theon's hand beneath the table harder than Theon did. _Ignore him,_ he wants to say, but he knows that Theon can't.

Theon's grin spreads a little wider. “Don't worry Dad, I take care of a lot of his needs.” Robb blushes faintly, and Balon just scoffs, so Theon spells it out: “though maybe not his need to walk from place to place, admittedly.”

Robb blushes deeply, and Asha raises her eyebrows as she disappears behind her glass, as if to say _yeah, sure_. Balon mumbles a muffled curse, but Robb can see in his eyes, he is sort of relieved. He's got this stupid, archaic, almost medieval idea that if Theon _has_ to be gay, it's much better he be the 'man' of the relationship, and Theon try as he might still cares deeply what his father thinks of him.

Robb knows he should be mad. But he knows Theon too well, and loves him too much.

The conversation moves on and Robb zones out a bit, his eyes drifting away, falling on the rather empty-looking men's bathrooms. He bites his lip. It would be so easy to sneak in there and...

Robb doesn't mind that Theon wants everyone to think he tops. That's not the problem.

The problem is he _doesn't_.

* * *

“Hey Robb?” Theon says when they arrive back at their flat, fairly late, and head for the bedroom. “I'm sorry about what I said, you know,” he mutters, and Robb frowns, puzzled – Theon has to remind him what he's even talking about. “To my dad? About you walking?”

 _Oh_. Robb's first instinct is to dismiss it entirely, to say _that's okay_ so he can go to bed, but when he turns around halfway through taking off his shirt and actually looks at Theon, he sees him kneading his hands together, biting his lip, a hopeful look on his face. So he doesn't want to be forgiven, at least, not yet. He wants to be punished first.

“Really,” Robb growls in a low voice, tossing his shirt aside, slipping into the role like an old dressing gown. He watches a shudder run through Theon's whole body. “You're sorry for trying to humiliate me?”

“...Yeah,” Theon says weakly, taking a step closer. “It's just, you know, my dad–”

What, don't what your daddy knowing what a dirty little cockslut you are?” A pause. _What the hell did I just say?_ thinks Robb, watching as Theon stiffens all over, and then he has to backtrack. “Wait – Theon, I didn't mean–”

Theon shakes his head and raises a hand. “Green,” he says.

 _Oh._ Robb really ought to remember, Theon knows his safewords, he will stop him if he goes too far. He doesn't need Robb to be so careful all the time. Now he has to backtrack from his backtracking. He remains silent another moment, and then slips back into that voice, the one that could command Theon to anything. “Get on your knees. Come here and make it up to me.”

Theon inhales loudly, and kneels almost comically fast, scrambling across the carpet to reach Robb. Robb groans as Theon nuzzles at his cock through his slacks, finding painfully hard. “You want that?” Robb mutters, taking ahold of Theon's hair to pull him closer.

Theon whines and nods, and Robb quickly undoes his fly and pulls his breeches down so he can feed Theon his cock. Theon moans in delight as the salty taste fills his mouth, and Robb knows he shouldn't be jealous when he's the one getting the blowjob, _but_. Theon does want it, crave it, maybe even need it – Sansa says it's Balon's fault; that Theon's lack of a proper father figure means he looks for command and control in other places, and frankly that sounds a bit Freudian for Robb's tastes but he supposes that's first year Psych students for you.

Robb is tired and his back hurts and this is the worst position they could be doing this in, but, _but_ , Theon wants it.

“That's it, Greyjoy, take it all the way,” he mutters as he pushes Theon down with both hands, fucking his throat slow but deep, making him whine and rub his pulsing cock against Robb's shin. He knows he's complaining for no reason; his beautiful boyfriend wants his cock all the time, how terrible. It's not as if he doesn't get a thrill out of this, having Theon let go of his ego and cockiness and just _submit_ completely. At least he did at first; now it's just the way things are, but he wishes...

“Mm, look at you. Pretty little slut, drooling all over my cock,” he says as the dribble falls down Theon's chin, his hips pistoning automatically, his subconscious adding more to the sentence. _Golden boy loves a cock in his mouth, doesn't he? Desperate slut. You don't get this at your bloody law firm, do you? Way you carry on, so proper, so high-and-mighty, no-one'd guess how much you crave dick._ Robb groans and throws his head back. Theon doesn't need to know what he's thinking about, what he's dreaming about; being pushed into the same position Theon is right now and used just like this. He wants Theon to use him, like all those girls he fucked before he came out, and Robb knows Theon feels very bad about all that so he really shouldn't fantasise about it, but he wants, he wants...

But fantasy-Theon is right; no-one would ever guess, and for that, Robb should be grateful.

When they're done and finally crawl into bed together, Theon curls himself around Robb's body like a living blanket, resting his head against his chest. “You know, I really am sorry,” he murmurs.

Robb hesitates a moment. “That's okay,” he says.

Theon scoffs. “No it's not,” he says. “You're right, I humiliated you.”

He shrugs. “I didn't really mind.” _I'd have let you fuck me right there over the table with the whole restaurant watching if I could, so who am I to complain?_

Theon sighs deeply. “You don't have to put up with my masculinity-crisis bullshit, you know,” he says. “I don't deserve it.”

Robb bites his lip. _Just ask him,_ says some voice at the back of his mind. _Tell him what you want. They worst he can say is no._ But even if he could, Theon is clearly having some kind of moment, and so now is really not the time. “Sure you do,” he says, and pulls Theon in for a kiss, perfectly chaste and yet still strong, possessive. “I love you.”

A pause, and then Theon chuckles. “Well when you put it like that, how am I meant to resist?” They kiss again, wetter, lewder this time, enough to make Robb's cock twitch against his thigh. But he's tired, and spent, so they both fall asleep shortly after without bothering with a second round.

Robb loves Theon, so much, and doesn't want to ask him to do something he doesn't want.

At least, he's trying not to want to.

* * *

It's probably wrong of him to be so relieved he has to get up early and shower before work, when Theon is inclined to sleep in half the afternoon whenever he can. It's definitely wrong of him to sneak to the bathroom before the crack of dawn, but when he wakes up hard and panting, dreaming of what Theon hasn't given him, he can't help himself. Luckily, they have shower sex often enough Theon doesn't question why Robb would keep a spare bottle of lube there.

He bites his arm to keep his moans down as pushes two fingers deep inside himself. Theon is probably still asleep, but just in case he's not, Robb doesn't want him hearing. He has to lean against the tile and close his eyes to keep the water from splashing in them, and shake his hair away every five seconds, which is annoying as hell but he can't wipe it away – his hands are full.

He plunges his fingers as deep as they'll go, searching for his prostate, but he can only just barely brush against it – he shivers all over in pleasure, but it's not enough. He wants more, he wants a cock, he wants Theon's cock. He can't get any deeper, so instead he goes wider, adding a third finger in recklessly. He gives a choked cry against his skin, and he'll have to wear a long-sleeved shirt for a couple of days to cover up the bitemark he's leaving. Three feels better, almost enough to make him come, but it's still not what he wants. His cock leaks in the shower, red and throbbing, aching to be touched, but Robb can't quite figure out how to.

 _Don't you dare touch yourself,_ he imagines Theon whispering in his ear as he takes him like this, bends him over in the shower and fucks him from behind. _You're mine, bitch. You don't get to come until I tell you to._

Robb moans again, helpless, needing so badly to come. Then he's scared out of his skin by a knock on the door.

“Robb!” _Fuck, Theon,_ and Robb, being an idiot, only finger-fucks himself faster in his panic. “You've been in there like an hour, how dirty can you possibly be? I need to piss!”

He makes a choked noise, not aided by Theon's exact choice of wording ( _There's my dirty boy,_ he hears in his mind). “Don't come in!” he blurts out, moving his arm off the wall to wrap it around his cock instead. Fuck, he needs to get off, now. If Theon catches him like this... “I'll be out in a second, I promise, just don't come in!”

A pause, and when Theon speaks again, he seems mostly bemused. “I'm not sure why it's such a big deal to you. I mean, it's not as if you've never seen my cock before. I wasn't planning on pissing on you.” Robb smothers a whine. He's almost entirely certain he wouldn't let Theon piss on him, that's not his thing, but the fact he can't be a hundred percent certain says a lot about his current level of desperation. “What are you doing in there?” Theon asks. Robb can't answer, he just bites his lip. _Please, I just need to come before he comes in..._ “Are you jerking off?”

Robb makes a panicked noise. “ _Theon–”_

“You're such a spoilsport, Stark,” says Theon, and Robb can practically hear him smirking. “You know how I feel about shower sex.” Robb does know, and he feels terrible; he shouldn't turn down sex with his actual boyfriend in favour of getting himself off with his fingers up his arse, but he can't help it, he just needs to feel stretched, fucked, and he'll give Theon whatever he wants tonight, he swears. “And if I don't go in there, you'll just use up all the hot water. Well that settles it.”

Robb has no choice. He pulls his fingers away, letting the sound of the shower bury his pathetic whimper. Ignoring the sting in his arse, he charges across the bathroom and opens the door, and Theon looks surprised to say the least as Robb, dripping wet, grabs him by the ratty old t-shirt he sleeps in and drags him inside.

He doesn't speak, just pushes Theon face-first and still in his t-shirt and boxers into the shower, pins him to the wall. Theon moans as Robb bites his neck, sucking so viciously he'll leave a mark a thousand times worse than the one he left on his him. “Oh fuck, _yes,_ ” Theon moans as Robb pushes his boxers down to his knees, hurriedly fumbling for the lube. He barely fingers Theon open with two digits before he slicks up his own cock, not thinking even to go fetch a condom from the bedroom, and he shoves himself inside.

“Robb!” Theon gasps as he's filled up, and gods it must feel so good for him, within a second he's thrusting back, whispering “c'mon, baby, move.” Robb growls like an animal and starts fucking hard and fast, his cock aching with the need to come, and he quickly grabs Theon's own, leaking and swollen. _It feels big,_ and Robb has to bite at Theon's neck again. _Why can't I have it inside me? We've been together almost two years now, isn't he at least curious? I want it so much..._

It doesn't take long before he comes, groaning against Theon's skin, turning Theon's hole wet and white. He sighs heavily, the need in his cock at least satisfied, but his arse feeling painfully empty, ever more so for how much time he spent fingering himself. He got to come, but not how he wanted to. _Maybe I should try doing this in the bathrooms at work,_ Robb thinks, and then shakes his head. No, that's a terrible idea, and a one-way ticket to getting fired. He must be losing it.

Theon's satisfaction does not seem so overcomplicated. He takes a moment getting his breath back, and then chuckles. “You know, you could have at least let me get naked first,” he says, and Robb flushes when he looks at Theon in his sopping t-shirt. That was stupid of him. “Guess I'm sleeping naked for a few days. Bet that's why you did it, pervert.”

Robb flushes. Sleeping naked always turns Theon into a needy mess, for some reason, and he should look forward to that but... “Sorry,” he mutters, and finally he turns the water off. “I got carried away.”

Theon turns around, grinning at him. “Yeah, I know,” he says, and then leans up to kiss Robb's neck. “You're lucky I like you like that.”

Robb groans. “I need to go to work,” he says.

Theon huffs in disappointment. “Alright. Go be a productive human or whatever.” And as Robb starts to step out of the shower, Theon frowns. “Mate. What happened to your arm?”

“Huh?” Robb immediately starts panicking, as Theon is staring right at the bitemark, and he'll know... “Oh, I uh – just banged it, that's all.”

 _Surely he's not gonna fall for that; you can still see the little tooth indentations,_ but Theon just shrugs. “Figures,” he says, and slaps Robb on the arm. “Go on, off to the law with you. Just don't be too late home, alright?” he smirks. “You wouldn't want me getting lonely.”

Robb sighs and kisses him on the lips, softly. “No I wouldn't,” he murmurs.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner with Robb's family, thankfully, is a less stressful affair, not that that's saying much. Robb parents are still not Theon's biggest fans, but given he's been Robb's best friend since he was in primary school, they're used to him by now. Among his entirely-too-many siblings, opinion varies.

When he knocks on the door of his old family home, he's not greeted by one of his parents, or siblings, or his cousin Jon who's always around. It's a girl, and one he's never met before. Robb blinks. She's quite pretty, with long chestnut curls and a slight smirk on her face. “Oh, hello,” she says, looking over the two of them on the doorstep. “You must be Robb and Theon.”

“...Hi?” says Robb awkwardly as he tries to figure out a polite way of phrasing _who the hell are you?_ Theon, being Theon, doesn't bother.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Theon!” Robb chides him, but the girl just laughs.

“Ah, sorry. I'm Margaery, I'm a friend of Sansa's. Well, come in, this lot have been waiting for you for ages.” Margaery nods behind her, and Theon looks at Robb. Robb just shrugs at him. _Well we should._

* * *

They spend a few minutes catching up with everyone over dinner, although not long, because they arrived fairly late. Mum smiles at him and kisses his cheek before she goes back to stressing over the salads, the way she does at these family dinners. “Easy, Cat,” says Dad when he enters the kitchen, squeezing her shoulder gently, making her giggle at how silly she's being. Robb smiles a little. His parents can be embarrassingly sweet sometimes.

He doesn't get to talk to this new Margaery much, for she's busy setting the table and regaling Arya with the story of the time her horse went rogue with her on top of it during riding lessons. Sansa is standing a few feet away, strangely quiet for her, and Robb decides to get information out of her instead. “So, Margaery?” he asks quietly.

Sansa blushes faintly before she answers. “Oh, she's just a friend from uni.” And so Robb nods and moves on.

Jon is there, as always. Robb grins to see him and slaps him on the back a little too firmly, while he and Theon just nod at each other stiffly. They've never really gotten on, although they do both _try_ nowadays, for Robb's sakes. Theon disappears shortly afterward, and when Robb thinks to go check where he's gotten to, he finds him playing decidedly too-violent-for-a-twelve-year-old video games with young Rickon. Robb just sighs and tells them both to get their arses down to dinner (although he doesn't quite phrase it like that, for his little brother's sakes, even though he's pretty sure Rickon has a fouler vocabulary than he's ever had.)

“This looks lovely, Mrs. Stark,” Margaery gushes as Mum serves her grilled fish with lemon and garlic; not exactly fancy, but overwhelmingly popular in their household.

Mum gives her a warm smile. “Thank you, Margaery,'' she says, and Theon mutters something under his breath. When Mum glances at him suspiciously though, he covers it up with a fake cough. Robb sighs. Still, Theon digs into his dinner eagerly, since Theon's the only person he's ever met who loves fish as much as Mum does. _One day, someone in this house will meet someone with a seafood allergy, and then everything will come crashing down._

“So, Theon,” says Dad as they're all starting to finish up their meals, “where you at now? Are you back at school, or – still working at the construction site?”

Robb gulps. _Great._ He knows Dad means well, but still, there's nothing Theon hates more than having to talk about his life plans and all that. He's only twenty-one, he's got plenty of time to figure things out, but Robb knows he feels like a loser, especially when Robb has his internship at a law firm and everything. He smiles in response to the question, as always, but Robb can see him wince. “Ah, neither,” he says. “That was just a temporary thing. But I mean, for the best really, manual labour doesn't suit me.”

 _I disagree._ Robb sighs. He laughed at the thought of Theon doing construction work at first, but when he starting coming home sweaty, dirty, and exhausted... in hindsight, that might have been a causative factor in his current problem. At least, it's definitely a factor in why they fuck in the shower so often.

Dad doesn't answer that except with a quiet 'hmm', which doesn't make Theon look any less anxious. “So I'm sort of between jobs at the moment,” he mutters, looking down at his plate.

“He has an interview next Monday,” Robb intervenes, because if Theon won't stick up for himself someone should.

“Oh?” asks Mum, and Theon shrugs.

“Just a bit of bartending work, nothing major,” he says.

“It's a full-time position though,” Robb adds.

Mum smiles. “That's good, then.” She's maybe not Theon's biggest fan, but she does seem to want what's best for him. Mostly because she realises what's best for him is what's best for Robb, since Robb's never going to leave him.

“You'll be coming home late a lot, then?” Jon asks, and Robb glares fiercely. He knows Jon doesn't trust Theon, remembers too much of his teenage womanising, but that was years ago and things are different now and it's none of his bloody business anyway.

Theon laughs. “Yeah, but don't worry, I'll be around when this one needs me,” he nods towards Robb, and Robb turns his glare on him. Okay, he knows Theon's feeling insecure, but when Theon feels insecure he says stupid shit, and usually Robb doesn't mind so much but usually Theon doesn't say these things to his parents– “Poor boy needs something to sit on after a long day at work.”

Dad starts choking on his wine and Mum's eyes immediately turn deathly. Theon looks like he regrets it the second after he says that, and Robb turns bright red, so mortified he barely even dwells on that's not how it works. He jumps out of his seat. “I'll go get the dessert!”

“I'll help you,” says Jon, getting up, leaving Robb lost for words. _Oh, great._

* * *

Jon doesn't exactly beat around the bush. He's staring into the apple crumble sullenly when he mutters: “so, are you going to let him get away with that?”

Robb pauses, really not wanting to talk about this. “With what?” he says, doing his best to sound cheery, as if he doesn't know exactly what Jon's talking about.

Of course, Jon's known him since the day he was born, and fake cheer and blissful ignorance never works on him. “What Theon said, about you – _on_ – him.” A blush rises to Jon's cheeks. Unsurprising; Jon is even more prudish than he is, and that's saying something. A blush rises to Robb's cheeks too, and he sighs.

“Look, Theon didn't mean it like that–”

“Yes he did.”

Robb sighs again. Yes, he did, but he didn't mean anything by it. “Theon just doesn't think before he speaks sometimes, that's all,” he says. “I know he's sitting in there feeling really guilty right now,” _and he'll be desperate to make it up to me later._

“Theon _never_ thinks before he speaks,” Jon scowls as he dollops ice-cream onto Arya's serve. “Robb, I know you've been in love with him since forever but – you don't have to let him treat you like that.”

Robb frowns, taken aback. “Treat me – how?”

Jon sighs deeply. “He treats you like a whore.”

Robb turns bright red. “He does not!” _If only._

“Doesn't he?!” Jon asks. “Look, Robb, what you do in bed is none of my business but if he thinks he can go about boasting about you like every girl he had in high school–”

Robb groans deeply. “Jon, it's not what you–” and he stops. No. No matter how embarrassed he is, he's not explaining the reality of the situation to Jon. He wouldn't do that to Theon. Also, Theon would kill him. “Jon. I appreciate your concern, really. But please, just: mind your own business?”

Jon stops, looking wounded. That must have come out more brusque than he meant it to. “Fine,” he says, and he sulks off to serve dessert, leaving Robb to sigh over the kitchen counter. _I'm doing well._

* * *

“Robb,” Theon leans in to whisper in his ear as soon as he makes it back to his seat, “I'm really sorry about–”

Robb smiles and shakes his head. “Don't worry about it,” he says and, when Theon looks less than convinced, he leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Jon still looks less than convinced, but Robb tries to ignore him, as he does Sansa's quiet 'aww'.

“So,” says Mum, eager as anyone to steer the conversation away from the deeply awkward place Theon has lead it, “what about you, Margaery? Do you have a job, or are you solely focused on your studies?”

Margaery laughs. “Would that I could, but my grandmother has me helping out in her flower shop. Well, I say shop. Emporium might be a better word for it. Highgarden, down on Reach Boulevard, have you ever been there?”

“Oh yeah, loads of times,” Robb can't stop himself butting in. Then he pauses. He knows Theon likes getting flowers, but still, Robb imagines he wouldn't be too happy if Robb told everyone how often he buys him flowers.

Luckily, Margaery doesn't press for details. “Well, I'm sure grandma will be pleased to here that. She always says handsome customers beget rich customers.”

“Margaery!” Sansa chides, and Robb turns bright red. Margaery grins sheepishly. Robb's sure she means nothing by it; his boyfriend is right there and all. She probably assumes he's gay, and so it's harmless since he could never be interested. Admittedly, if he weren't with Theon he might be interested; she is very pretty, and her chestnut curls and warm brown eyes almost remind him of Jeyne, his first girlfriend. But still, he has Theon, who he's been in love with since he was six years old; he neither wants or needs anyone else.

Then Robb pauses. It's not as if Theon never flirts with girls, and even though Robb knows nothing's going to come of it, it always makes him jealous. Jealousy, in him, tends to lead to unnecessarily intense sex; to pinning Theon down and tearing his clothes off and fucking him so hard he won't dare forget who he belongs to again. Until the next time it happens. Robb's always suspected that's why Theon does it, in truth.

 _Don't, you're being an idiot,_ Robb tells himself, but, he reasons, he doesn't know what Theon would do if he really was angry at Robb. If he could just make it Theon's idea... if he could just make Theon angry...

“That's okay,” he says, and gives this Margaery his most charming grin (which, from what he's been told, is pretty charming). “Although I'm not sure I see the point, if they've got a girl as pretty as you working there.”

Sansa makes a choked noise, but Margaery just smiles at him and returns to her dessert. Robb, as soon as he can, sneaks a glance at Theon to see his reaction.

He – doesn't look angry. He's smiling, like always, but it's a defensive smile. His eyes dart around nervously. He looks scared. He looks – hurt.

_Shit._

* * *

As if Robb didn't have enough problems, late in the evening when Margaery announces she's heading home, she opens the door and immediately gives the follow-up announcement: “...nevermind.”

Somehow a damn-near blizzard snuck up on them all with no-one noticing, which strikes Robb as unlikely as it is unhelpful. No-one is driving anywhere tonight, which is bad, because if Robb s going to talk or fuck or anything with his boyfriend he should probably try not to do it surrounded by his whole oversized family.

“You can stay in my room,” Sansa tells her friend with a firm squeeze to the shoulder, and Margaery grins at her.

“Of course, sweetie. Where else would I stay?”

It hardly needs specifying that Robb and Theon can just slot back into Robb's old room; this happens probably more often than it should. Usually, they spend the night laughing and embarrassing each other with childhood memories – but that seems unlikely right now, as Theon's still sulking from dinner. Robb, himself only half-undressed, watches with a frown as he watches Theon peel out of his way-too-many clothes, not even having anything to wear to bed, but he doesn't make a show of it like usual, doesn't try to tease Robb with his naked body until Robb just takes it. Instead, he seems almost shy for once, and painfully vulnerable. Robb's heart leaps up in his throat. “Theon? You okay.”

Theon sighs deeply as he sits, completely bare, on the edge of the bed. “I thought you weren't mad,” he mutters.

“Theon!” Robb rushes over to join him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. Shit, how much has he fucked up here? “No, of course I'm not mad at you, why would you even think that?”

“Well, with what I said,” says Theon, “I mean, it's not like I've never said that shit before, even if everyone knows it's a fucking lie, but I don't usually say it in front of your folks and–” he sighs, “–that girl. Maggie. Mariah. Shit, what is her name? Whatever, it doesn't matter, just – I thought you might be trying to get your own back, you know? Embarrass me like I embarrassed you?”

“What, Theon, no,” he says, horrified. _Shit shit shit._ “I wouldn't do that to you, I just–” _wanted to make you angry. Wanted to make you jealous enough to fuck me like the desperate whore I am._ He cringes at how horrible it sounds. He should have known this would happen: Theon isn't like him, jealousy doesn't make him angry, because deep in his heart he still doesn't believe he deserves Robb. Robb should have realised that making him jealous was just going to make him upset, make him think it was his fault, that he'd done something wrong. Robb didn't even think of that. God, what sort of selfish slut is he? “–I was just trying to be friendly. I, uh, maybe got a bit over-friendly?”

 _I'm a terrible liar,_ thinks Robb, but Theon chuckles softly. “You have always been too charming for your own good,” he says.

“Er, thanks,” says Robb, a little caught off-guard by having his apologies interrupted with a compliment. “But the point is: I didn't mean anything by it, and I'm really sorry. Forgive me?”

A pause, and then his usual smile spreads across Theon's face. “Well when you look like that, how can I not?” he asks, and pinches Robb's cheek for emphasis, making him wince a little. Theon chuckles. “Well come on, Stark,” he says, and pouts mockingly. “Kiss it better.”

Robb rolls his eyes, but eagerly leans in and pulls Theon into a kiss, deep and thorough and possessive, meant to show him Robb wants him and him alone. Theon moans softly and tilts his head back, hands grasping Robb's shoulders, letting Robb's tongue dominate his easily. _Of course._ But Robb's the one who screwed up tonight, and so he has to do it right, has to give Theon what he wants. He breaks away and attaches his lips to Theon's neck inside, leaving a long line of hickeys that he knows Theon isn't going to bother covering up at all. His hand finds Theon's cock, stroking him softly and teasingly until he's fully hard, leaving him a needy, shuddering mess. “Theon,” Robb whispers, and then something in his brain short-circuits, “let me make it up to you.”

“Huh?” asks Theon, but Robb is on his knees before he can query much further.

 _I shouldn't,_ thinks Robb as he gently pushes Theon's knees apart, and he's terrified he's going to be pushed away, that Theon will want to skip that and go straight to fucking, but as Robb leans in and delicately traces the very tip of him with his tongue, he just throws his head back and moans, loud and shameless. After all, Theon might be an incorrigible bottom, but everyone likes a blowjob, right? Slowly, Robb takes it into his mouth properly, folding his lips over the head and as he swipes his tongue over the slit, he gives himself a moment to enjoy the taste, even if he tries not to moan too loudly. _Maybe I can make him come in my mouth,_ Robb thinks with a shudder, his cock throbbing in his boxers – god, he hasn't even remembered to take the rest of his clothes off yet. Theon has done that before, but very rarely, and not on purpose – he's always extremely apologetic after, and Robb's yet to figure out a way of explaining that he likes it, a lot. Figures, really.

He's getting greedy, he knows he is, but as he starts to bob his head and take Theon in and out of his mouth properly, he can feel his boyfriend shivering with restrained pleasure, thighs twitching as he struggles not to thrust in deeper. Robb moans aloud and suddenly pushes himself forward, taking Theon as deep as he can in one move. “Fuck, Robb!” Theon shouts as Robb's lips close around him tight, a precome dripping from him and Robb doesn't let up, he can't let up. He pushes himself further, working Theon's cock into the back of his throat, making himself gag, he just wants it deeper. Theon's hands come to rest in his hair as he moans and shivers under Robb's attentions, long fingers running through his curls fretfully, but not doing anything else. _Oh please,_ thinks Robb as he hollows his cheeks around that length, sucking as hard as he can, desperate, _yank my hair, push me down. Push your cock right to back of my throat. Facefuck me like the greedy little slut I am. Use me, come on._

And then he's pushed away. Robb has to bite his lip so he won't whine in disappointment, but once he's got some air going into his lungs again, his wits start to return. _I'm being selfish,_ he realises. _This is about what Theon wants, not me._ He takes a deep breath, and then looks up, meeting Theon's eye. “What is it?” he asks, and kisses his inner thigh gently. “Is something wrong?”

Theon chuckles and shakes his head. “Nothing but, if you kept that up much longer, I was going to come in your mouth. Not sure you want that.”

 _Yes I do!_ Robb wants to shout, but he forces the words back. “Well...” he says slowly, weighing the situation up, “...what do you want?”

A pause, and then Theon smirks. “Lie down on the bed.”

Robb's jaw drops open and his heart leaps up in his chest. _He's not going to–_

At the look on his face though, Theon's smile falters. “Or, if you want something else, I can–”

“No, no, it's fine!” Robb rushes out, and almost trips himself over scrambling up onto the bed. Theon gives him a bemused look, but then just chuckles. Robb manages to discard what remains of his clothing as Theon gets up and walks back across the room, fishing something out of his jeans pocket. Robb doesn't _know_ that Theon wants what he wants, but the vague possibility is painfully tantalising, has him panting and spreading his legs instinctively as he lies on his old childhood bed, cock leaking against his thigh.

Theon comes back over to him with a small bottle in hand. “I brought lube, just in case,” he says, and Robb frowns for a second, because really he should have thought of that, but it's not like they knew they'd be staying the night and besides, right now it is really hard to _care_. Then Theon hesitates about something. “I – also brought a condom, if you think we should–?”

Robb frowns again. _I want to feel you come inside me,_ he thinks, but he's not sure he's going to get that either way. “Do you want to use it?” he asks.

“Not really,” Theon shrugs. “But you know – do you trust me that much?”

Robb squeezes his hip tenderly. “Always,” he says. And then, as his mind reels, he thinks _I've fucked him bareback dozens of times. He must be talking about fucking me. He must be._ He feels like he could cry from relief.

Theon smiles at him. “Yeah. Of course. I know you do.” He lets out a shaky breath as he snaps open the little mini-bottle, pouring the substance inside onto his fingers. “Okay. Here goes.”

Robb moans and lets his eyes slide shut, hips arching off the bed, trying to display his arse, ready to feel Theon's fingers _finally_ opening him up and–

A groan.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees Theon has closed his own, and he's reaching behind himself, spreading himself open with his fingers. “Fuck, Robb, I wanna ride your cock,” Theon moans as he pushes two fingers in himself. “I love it so much. Always feels so good inside me. L-like it belongs there. I belong on top of your dick, Stark. I _exist_ for you to fuck me.”

As he watches, Robb reaches down for his cock and rubs himself thoroughly, not wanting to give away any hint of his disappointment. “Yeah,” he says dumbly in answer, not sure how to process the words. Theon thinks he's giving Robb what he wants. Robb can't bring himself to tell him otherwise. Gently, he reaches up and rubs Theon's hip as Theon adds a third finger, mewling as he pries himself open. Robb squirms underneath, but he does not taunt himself by taking hold of Theon's cock again. “I love you so much, Theon. I love making you feel good.”

Theon moans as he pulls his fingers away, and then lets out a brief chuckle. “Yeah, I know,” he says, and then slides down over Robb's cock.

Robb gasps and arches off the bed as he feels Theon's hot, tight hole close around his cock. Luckily, it is more easily satisfied than the rest of him. “Oh fuck,” he moans, shivering at the sudden wave of pleasure, and Theon echoes him as he takes Robb balls-deep inside him, legs spread shamelessly. _He loves it so much_ , thinks Robb, and it's good to see Theon no longer riddled with shame, just taking what he wants and allowing himself to feel good. _Maybe if I asked, he'd finger me while I fucked him?_ That's not really possible while on his back though, so he shakes the thought away.

“Robb,” Theon gasps as he shifts and writhes, searching for the right angle – suddenly he yelps, his cock jumps and his hand darts forward to catch it, stroking himself quickly, so he must have found it. “Oh fuck, yes, there!”

He's shouting so loud half the house can probably hear him, but Robb can't bring himself to care, not when his boyfriend is so beautiful above him, so happy and free. He tightens his grip on Theon's hip. “There?” he asks, and drives his cock upward hard and fast, thrusting right against that spot and making him cry out.

“Fuck, yes!” and he meets Robb's pace, thrusting down just as hard and fast, starting to ride it properly, taking Robb all the way inside him at such a vicious pace that Robb's head starts spinning; he has to throw his head back and moan.

“That's it baby, ride me,” he murmurs as he strokes Theon's hip, urging him on. _Pin me to the bed and use me to fill you up; make me your living fucking dildo._ It's still not quite what he wants, but it's a lot closer than what he usually gets and for tonight at least, it might be enough. He's not sure Theon can even hear him, he's moaning so loud, chanting 'fuck me, fuck me, fuck me' again and again, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters but how good he must feel. Robb loves him so much.

He closes his eyes and lets it all wash over him as Theon drives himself into a pleasured craze, until he's ready to come all over Robb's chest and maybe even his face, and that thought has Robb moaning and arching up, barely able to keep from spilling himself. He loves Theon. He'd do anything for him.

* * *

Theon groans when Robb wakes him in the morning. “Piss off,” he mutters against Robb's shoulder and kicks his shin. “It's too early.”

Robb makes a disbelieving noise. “It's almost eleven-thirty, Theon.” He wanted to let Theon sleep in as long as possible, not least because he was enjoying his sleepy cuddles, but he does draw a line somewhere: they have to get up in the morning. “And I smell breakfast.”

Theon pauses, opens his eyes, and starts sniffing the air. “Ooh, is Sansa making pancakes again?” Everyone knows Sansa makes the best pancakes. Theon grins at him. “You wouldn't mind running and getting me a plate, would you, sweetheart?”

Robb makes an even more disbelieving noise. “You have legs!”

Theon shrugs. “Yeah, but after last night, they might be out of commission for a little while.”

Robb frowns. Alright, Theon might have a point there – and if so, it's a bit of a mystery how he's going to get Theon back to their flat, but he'll figure that out later. “Fine,” he mumbles, and reluctantly pulls himself out of the nice warm bed, into the freezing winter air. Really, the things he does for this guy. His legs are also a bit shaky after being ridden like a prize racehorse, but he manages to climb back into his clothes and make it out the door.

As he stumbles into the kitchen, he sees Jon and Bran at the table merrily eating as Sansa finishes pouring the last dregs of batter into the pan. “Morning,” he says sleepily, taking a seat.

When he sees him, Jon turns bright red. “Morning,” he says, and hurriedly stuffs what remains of his pancakes into his mouth. “Bye.” And then he runs off.

Robb doesn't get much time to contemplate how weird that was before there's a plate of pancakes shoved under his nose, complete with berries and cream. “Eat,” says Sansa before she stomps off, not even bothering to do the dishes before she goes. That's not like her.

That leaves Robb alone with Bran, who to his credit doesn't immediately run, also he is blushing faintly. Robb frowns. “Okay, what's up with them?”

Bran sighs deeply. “Robb, do you remember how the spare room, aka. unofficially Jon's room, is right next to yours?” A pause. “Meaning he can hear _everything_?”

“...Oh,” says Robb. He did used to know that, and back when he lived here he and Theon used to always try and be quiet when Jon was over (or he did, at least), out of courtesy. But he forgot last night. “Shit.”

“So yeah, he's pretty embarrassed.” Bran pauses. “Although I think also faintly relieved about something? I'm not sure what.”

Robb blushes. _Well, at least he knows I'm not being treated like a whore where I'd like to be._ Idly, he wonders whether he can drown himself in low-fat whipping cream. “Wait, what about Sansa?” he asks. “Her room's at the other end of the house.”

“Oh no, she's just mad at you for hitting on her girlfriend.” At Robb's bewildered look, Bran sighs. “Margaery? Seriously, did you not notice? They're almost as obvious as you and Theon used to be!”

Robb pouts. _Great. Now my sister hates me. This has not gone according to plan._ “I'm thick okay, leave me be,” he says, and at that Bran just laughs. Robb is about to fetch Theon's pancakes for him and go back to bed when he suddenly thinks. “Wait, how do you know all this. I mean, that me and Theon were–?”

Bran blushes deeper, and glares at him. “Robb, do you remember how my room is right below yours? Meaning I can also hear everything?”

“...Oh,” Robb says again. “Shit. Sorry?” he offers. “But to be fair, you seem a lot less traumatised by the this than I would have expected.”

Bran rolls his eyes. “Well, I have three older siblings, and one good-as sibling. I've built up an immunity over the years.” He pauses. “Although I am hoping I can move out before Rickon starts having sex, because that's just gonna be weird.”

“Welcome to older brotherhood,” says Robb. He knows he put the fear of god into all Sansa's early boyfriends, although to be fair, all of Sansa's early boyfriends were genuinely the worst. Still, no wonder she didn't want to tell him about Margaery. He needs to talk to her, from one queer sibling to another. And apologise. He needs to do that too.

“Anyway, don't worry, I have the internet, I know what goes where,” Bran carries on. “And remember when I was fourteen and you made me help you with that slideshow for Theon about how important open and honest communication is in a relationship? That involved a lot of weird sex terms that I had to go google later.”

Robb makes a choked noise. “You weren't meant to do that!” he says. “You were meant to have no idea what that meant and then never think about it again!”

Bran raises an eyebrow. “What, had you never met a teenager before?”

“...Shut up.” Bran laughs at him again. Robb sighs deeply. “So, everyone heard us, huh?” _Everyone knows the way we do it._ The drowning-in-cream idea comes to mind again (and that is not a euphemism, at least not this time).

“Well I've not checked with _everyone_ , but: very possibly,” he says. Then, at the look on Robb's face, he frowns. “Robb? Is something wrong?”

“Hm? No, of course not.” But Bran raises his eyebrows higher, and he's always been better at seeing through Robb's bullshit than the rest of their family. Robb sighs. “Look, it's not really something I can talk to you about.”

Bran pulls a face. “Is it a sex thing?”

“ _Bran!_ ”

“Okay, in that case, I really don't want to know details,” Bran rushes out while Robb is in the middle of choking on his own tongue in embarrassment. “But still: have you considered talking to Theon about it?”

Robb, once he's recovered his ability to breathe, sighs deeply. “I can't.”

Bran rolls his eyes again. “Great, you've inherited our parents' approach to relationship problems.” Robb makes an offended noise, but before he can chime in with a defense of either himself or them, Bran carries on. “What happened to the importance of open and honest communication?”

“...Yeah, but when I made that slideshow, I was thinking of Theon's trouble communicating, not my own.” He pauses. “You think I'm being a hypocrite, don't you?”

“Yes, because that's the definition of hypocrisy, Robb.”

Before Robb can think of a rebuttal, a third voice chimes in from behind them. “What are you two nattering about, then?”

Robb spins around. “Theon!” But when he sees his boyfriend leaning against the door frame, fully dressed in last night's clothes, he gives him a suspicious look. “I thought you couldn't walk yet?”

Theon's eyes go wide in alarm, his cheeks turning red. Shit. Robb shouldn't have said that, not in front of someone. From behind them, Bran sighs again. “Okay, for everyone's sakes, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that,” he says, and Robb turns back around to see him sliding out from under the table. “...Bye,” he says, and very awkwardly wheels away.

Once he's gone, Theon chuckles, and pulls himself up a stool. “Sorry Robb. You were taking ages, I got lonely.” When he actually tries to sit though, he hisses in pain. “Shit. This might have been a mistake.”

Robb winces. “Sorry,” he says. Theon just shrugs, and helps himself to a bite of Robb's untouched pancakes in retribution.

“Anyway, were you just catching up with jailbait-on-wheels?”

Robb gives him a dubious look. “Okay, don't call my brother jailbait, Theon. One, it's really creepy. Two, he turned sixteen months ago.”

“...Sorry,” says Theon. “Still, what were you talking about?”

“...Oh, nothing. Family stuff.” _I am a terrible liar,_ thinks Robb, what Theon just nods along. “Apparently Sansa likes girls now.”

Theon thinks this over a moment. “Figures. I mean I wouldn't have seen it coming, but all the girly-girl stuff. Totally overcompensating.”

Robb scoffs at him. “Bit rich, coming from you.”

“Oi,” says Theon, and with a pout, he helps himself to more of Robb's pancakes. Robb has to laugh.

“Theon?” he says. “You know I love you a lot, right?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course,” says Theon with his mouth full. “Why else would you put up with me?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Robb is alone at home. That's rare, since between the work he gets paid for and the work of various descriptions he inevitably ends up volunteering himself for, Robb doesn't get a moment to breathe very often, and when he does Theon is usually there because Theon is just usually there. But he has a job interview today, and Robb has one of his increasingly infrequent days off, and Robb is happy for Theon but at the same time he's a bit bored.

He looks around the house, and decides to do some cleaning.

Their flat is about as messy as you'd expect a flat inhabited by two twenty one year old men to be. Robb tries to keep it under control, his mother's stern glare whenever she saw his room less than spotless being burned into the back of his mind somewhere, but he doesn't really have the time very often. Theon tries to help out, but his idea of cleaning is shoving the mess in whatever random cupboard is nearest until it overflows, so that's not actually very helpful.

Robb sighs when he sees Theon's clothes littered all over the floor. He has no idea how to tell what's clean and what's dirty, the only way he can think of would be by smelling them, and they all smell like Theon and–

He chooses the easy option, just dumps them all in the hamper and hopes for the best. He's pretty sure Theon has enough clothes still in the cupboards that he won't freeze. He might get cross about it though. Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.

Robb shakes the thought away.

Once that's done, he turns to getting rid of some of the spare litter that just accumulates on their floor. Most of it has rolled under the bed (or probably Theon kicked it there to hide it), however, and the bed is too low to the ground, so Robb has to get down on his hands and knees to get at it.

_There's a good boy, get on all fours for me,_ he hears a voice whispering to him, and he closes his eyes. He has to stop this. If he's not going to just ask Theon to fuck him, he has to stop torturing himself with the idea – before he does something he'll regret. Hell, he's already done something he regrets, even if it all worked out in the end. If Theon wanted to fuck him, he probably would have by now. Robb doesn't want to make Theon do something he doesn't want to. It's not like he _hates_ topping, he's just curious. But he ought to smother that curiosity in its crib.

Robb sighs and tries to ignore the idea, tries to ignore his cock stirring in his pants. As he reaches under the bed, he mostly finds dust and paper – he should probably get the vaccuum (do they have a vaccuum?) – but then his hand collides with something hard and slightly cool to the touch. He hisses in pain a little, then grabs it and pulls it out.

It's an empty beer bottle, and at first Robb thinks nothing of that other than that Theon should maybe drink less. He should just go throw it out, but as he sits there holding it some madness seizes him. _Don't be ridiculous._ But it's about the right size... _It's also made of glass and might shatter to a thousand pieces; if you're that fucking desperate, go buy something actually meant for the task._ Robb thinks that was on one of his slides, actually; that if there was something Theon wanted that was more than one human body could provide, they should go get something professionally made, since makeshift sex toys were always a bad idea (...okay, if he explained in that much detail, maybe he shouldn't be surprised that Bran figured out enough to ask Mr. Google about it). But Robb really doesn't want to do that, because he doesn't want Theon finding it, and thinking (/realising) he's not satisfying Robb fully.

Robb's not really sure what to do, but he finds himself slipping the head of the bottle between his lips, a vague compromise measure. At least it's fairly clean; it can't have been there more than a couple of days. Robb pushes the cold glass a couple more inches forward, and flushes when he imagines what he must look like, how pathetic, trying to give head to an empty beer bottle because he's _that_ desperate for cock. _Such a greedy whore, look at you_ , Robb hears Theon whisper and he closes his eyes. _Such a needy little cocksucker. You want to swallow it all the way down, don't you?_

God, yes, Robb does. He opens his jaw wide and pushes the whole neck of the bottle into his mouth, until his eyes water and he gags. _There you go, cockslut._ Robb moans around the glass. _You just love getting my dick wet, don't you?_

He does love it. He's sucked Theon's dick a thousand times but never quite like this, never had him fuck his mouth while whispering such filthy things at him. Mostly he's had Theon whine and writhe against the sheets and beg him to let him come, which is fantastic in its own way, but– _fucking drool on it, there you go._ Robb can feel his own saliva dripping down his chin. _You wanna get it so wet I can just shove it up your arse, don't you?_

Robb whimpers. God, he wants it in his arse, he wants it so much. He knows what a bad idea this is, but he's so fucking hard and his cock is currently hoarding all the blood his brain needs to talk him out of it. He lets go of the bottle for a second, lets it stand dripping with his saliva for a second as he wipes his chin and undoes his zip with shaking hands. He shoves his pants and trousers down around his knees roughly, then puts his hands in front of him, lowering his mouth back onto the bottle. Only one of his hands stays there though, the other reaching behind himself to start rubbing at his arsehole with two fingers. But it's hard to keep himself upright like that, and so Robb finds himself with his chest lowered almost to the floor, the bottle so far down his throat he might choke on it, and his arse high in the air like he's begging to be fucked – which he is. _Shameless little whore,_ Theon's whispering voice comes again. _Get yourself ready for me, put your fingers in there._

He tries, but he's too tight, too dry, all he manages to do is make himself cry out in pain – and not in a nice way. With a reluctant sigh, he lets go of the bottle and pushes himself back upright, a thick line of saliva snapping between his mouth and the rim. It is fucking dripping with his spit, but Robb knows it won't be enough. Shakily, he grabs it, stands up, kicks his trousers and boxers down to the floor, sits on the bed and reaches for the lube.

When he squeezes it so much drips down his fingers that he has to wipe his wrist on the covers, and he wonders if Theon wonders why they're going through the stuff so quickly these days, but it's not really like Theon to keep track of such things. Robb kneels and gets into the same position he was before, arse in the air, and he's so impatient – so needy – he just shoves two in without a thought, even as it makes him hiss in pain. That hardly seems to matter when he pushes through, and lets out a deep moan of satisfaction at the feel of being breeched. God, he loves this, he _needs_ it. If only it was Theon's cock doing it. Unthinkingly, Robb grabs the bottle with his spare hand, and shoves it back between his lips. _Fill up all your holes for me, Stark. I should share you around, let you take two cocks at once. Maybe more._

Robb flushes. He swears, his fantasies weren't always _this_ dirty, he thinks his sexual frustration has just made them intensify. He doesn't wait as long as he should before adding a third finger, he's just so fucking _greedy_ , he wants it so much–

_So desperate to be filled. What would you do to make me put my cock in you?_

He whimpers as he ruts against the duvet, fucking himself on his fingers desperately, still sucking at the bottle. He knows what he wants. He knows it's a terrible idea, but he knows what he wants.

Robb doesn't finger himself anywhere near as long as he should, he knows that; he'd chide Theon for his impatience if he started demanding cock this quickly. But Robb has completely taken leave of his senses, and he won't even be getting real cock anyway, which doesn't help him regain his senses. He pulls his fingers out and pushes himself up onto his knees, grabbing the bottle once again. He stares at it, and starts to reach for the lube. Then he stops, and turns back to the bedside drawer to grab a condom.

It's not like he thinks the latex will help him at all if the glass does break, but at least it might spare him a nasty yeast infection.

The thing doesn't exactly roll on neatly; the thin rubber hangs loose about the rim of the bottle, and it's all pretty silly looking, but Robb can't bring himself to care, he needs something now. He groans and grabs the lube, squeezing a thick blob onto the neck of the bottle and spreading it across with his hands, all but shaking in need. This is pathetic, he knows it is, but he's holding it still with one hand and shuffling forward into position, kneeling above and then lowering himself on top of it–

“Fuck,” he hisses as he feels glass push at his hole, cold, hard, and awkward. It doesn't feel like a cock; it doesn't have any give, and the ridges at the top are bumpy and painful, but it's bigger than his own fingers and Robb will take it. He moans as he forces himself down until the tip of it pops through, breaches him, and a splash of pain rushes up his spine but he barely even notices as he shudders in satisfaction. He needs more.

“Ahhh...” he moans as he pushes himself further down, forcing it in as far as it will go. He can't get it past the neck, which is probably for the best because that should stop it getting lost inside him, but altogether it's not actually that much bigger than his own fingers. It is better though; thick and solid, and when he leans back he gets it to rub against the right spot, at which he yelps and thrusts down eagerly. He feels like such a whore, pleasuring himself like this. _Needy bitch,_ he imagines Theon whispering as he holds Robb by the hips, rubbing his cock against Robb's hip. _So greedy, so desperate to be filled, you'd put anything in there to make it feel less empty, wouldn't you?_ A chuckle. _But you know there's nothing in the whole world that's going to feel as good as my cock, right?_

Robb whines, losing himself in the fantasy, bouncing down on the bottle as fast as he can, moaning as it pushes against all the right spots inside him. “Theon, please,” he chokes, one shaking hand desperately trying to keep the bottle still, to keep it from coming out, the other reaching behind himself to feel where his wet stretched hole meets latex-covered glass. “Fill me, fuck me, please...”

“Hey, Robb!” And Robb is snapped out of his fantasies, his hands flying from the bottle and his arse squeezing it out immediately, and then he starts panicking. “Where are you, I have good news, let me gloat at you–”

_Theon's home._ Robb scrambles for his clothes, before Theon finds him and realises what he's been up to, but in his terror he doesn't even think of the bottle until he knocks it onto the floor with a thud, and it goes rolling toward the doorway. And just as it does, Theon comes through the corridor, poking his head into the room. “ _There_ you are, bloody hell, what are you–” and the bottle comes to a stop against Theon's toe.

Theon looks down at it, and frowns. Robb feels like he's going to be sick. _It's that fucking condom,_ he thinks hysterically. Without it, it would just be a beer bottle, and Robb's sure he could come up with some excuse for why it's so wet. As is, it's a giant flaming red flag as to what he's been doing, and Theon leans down to pick it up gingerly by the base. Then he looks across the room at Robb, naked from the waist down, kneeling on their bed a red, sweaty mess and – he couldn't be more obvious if he tried.

“Robb,” says Theon, bemused, as he slowly paces across the room and over to the bed, bottle still in hand as he comes to stand with his cock maybe a foot away from Robb's face. “The hell?”

Robb bites his lip, lost. “Fuck me?” he whispers.

Theon blinks. “What?”

And something in Robb just _breaks_.

Theon jumps when Robb throws himself forward, but he doesn't move away, and Robb just sets on him, frantically yanking at his zipper with wet, shaky hands, desperate to get at his cock but mostly just getting his nice clean interview trousers dirty with lube. “Oh please,” Robb moans, and when he fails to get the zipper down, he instead starts nuzzling and mouthing at Theon's cock through his clothes. “Please, Theon, _please_ , I want it so much. I need it.” Theon takes a sharp intake of breath, but Robb can feel him start to stiffen against his lips. “God, I feel like I'm going crazy. I think about it all the time, your cock wrecking my hole. I feel so fucking empty. You're the only thing that can fill me up. I know, it's not – not what you prefer, but I swear, you only have to do it the once, I'll never ask again, promise. You don't even have to do anything, you can just lie there and let me ride you. _Please._ You – you don't even have to put it all in, okay, not if you don't want, I'll be happy with just the tip, I just need to feel it–”

“Robb!”

Robb stops in the middle of his babbling, and looks up to see Theon wide-eyed and stunned. His wits, as quickly as they abandoned him, decide to come rushing back, leaving him mortified. _I'm acting like an idiot,_ he realises, and hurriedly averts his eyes. _And a slut. A slutty idiot._ “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I mean – if you want to, we can – but if you don't, that's fine, I'll just–”

“ _Robb._ ” There's a hand under his chin, and Theon guides his head back up to look him in the eye. He sighs. “Robb, if you want it that much, that is fine with me.” Robb's jaw drops a little open. _It's that easy?_ He feels like he could cry, and yet, he can't quite accept it just yet.

“Are you sure? Because, I mean, I don't want you to do this just to make me happy–”

But then he's cut off by something shoved in his mouth; two fingers, resting across his tongue. Theon raises an eyebrow at him, and then starts to push his fingers back and forth across Robb's lips. Robb knows he's being tested, but he can't resist; his eyes shutter closed and then he just starts to suck, slowly at first and then harder, desperately, letting all his need come out through his mouth.

Theon chuckles as he pulls his hand away. “Yeah, that's what I thought you needy little slut,” he says, and Robb gasps, a shiver running through his whole body at the sound of those words. _Oh god, he's really going to do it._ Theon pauses. “Robb? Is that okay? Do you like me saying things like that?”

Robb nods as quickly as is physically possible. “Yes, yes, yes.” Theon looks a little surprised, and Robb, blushing, spreads his legs, showing off how obscenely hard his cock is. “That's – more than okay.”

“...Huh,” says Theon. He taps his fingers on Robb's chin thoughtfully. “So, how hard do you want this Stark?” he asks, a smirk spreading across this face. “You like the same things I do? Want me to pin you down, use your holes and make you beg me for more?”

Robb moans so loud he's sure all the neighbours can hear him. “Oh god, yes,” he gasps, thrusting into the air slightly.

Theon is grinning at him, his hand moving up to stroke Robb's hair softly. “Patience, sweetheart,” he chuckles. Robb can tell he's getting into this role, and gods what a relief that is. “You know my safewords, right?” he asks, making sure. “Red, yellow, all that. You know what to say if you need me to stop?”

Robb nods again, with a whine. _Please don't stop,_ he wants to say, but he knows it's important Theon checks. Theon is trying to do the right thing by him, he realises.

“Alright then,” Theon grins, and then with his free hand, he grabs ahold of his own cock, kneading himself through the fabric. “Shit,” he hisses, and Robb bites his lip, before trying to lean forward to get his mouth on it again. Theon's hand tightens in his hair and holds him back. “Uh-uh, greedy. Not 'til I say.”

Robb fucking whimpers. “Theon, please,” he begs, not sure he can wait another second longer.

Theon chuckles again. “Shh, sweetheart, it's okay, I understand. I know how much you need cock in your slutty holes.” Robb can't help but moan again, and when Theon lets go of his hair, he waits with his mouth hanging open and panting. Slowly, Theon starts to push his zip down with his comparatively dry hands. “Now, how about you come get my dick wet for me, and then I can fill your whore arse, okay?”

Robb doesn't think he's ever heard anything so okay in his life.

He throws himself forward again, recklessly tugging Theon's trousers down his thighs, until he can mouth at his cock through only black cotton briefs. But that's not enough either, so he's quickly pushing them down and out springs Theon's cock, red and hard and _huge_ and curving toward him, so inviting. He drools.

He's got his mouth on it in a second, too in need to tease, moaning as he takes ahold of Theon's hips to force himself down deeper. Theon groans as Robb sucks at him so greedily, tasting precome in his mouth and it tastes so good, it feels so good, everything, and Theon's hands are winding through his hair again, pushing him down. “Yeah, that's it baby,” he murmurs, and then he _thrusts_ , shoves himself down Robb's throat and Robb's cock spurts droplets onto his belly as he gags around it. “You want this? Want me to fuck your pretty mouth numb?”

Robb moans and nods, gasping in delight as Theon thrusts a second time. He's sucked Theon's cock a thousand times but he's never had this; he's never been held still while Theon just facefucks him, turns him into his fucking cumdump. “Thought so,” Theon grins, and then he sets a pace, battering the back of Robb's throat fast and hard and making him choke, and his head spins so much he thinks he could come from this and this alone. It's so good he almost forgets how empty his arse is. “That's it. Choke on my fucking dick, baby.”

And then Theon shoves him down, _all the way down_ , until his nose is buried against Theon's crotch, until he's almost swallowing his balls. Theon stinks of sweat and sex and sin and it's driving Robb crazy, kneeling there while Theon's huge cock throbs and pulses inside his throat, he can't even breathe, he's just such a desperate slut–

Theon groans and suddenly Robb is pushed back up, left spluttering wetly as Theon catches his breath. “Fuck. Can't come yet,” Theon mutters under his breath and Robb whines, his wet and empty arse suddenly a stinging reminder of what he's still wanting, and he falls down onto his back with his legs in the air, displaying his hole shamelessly.

“Theon – please–“

”I'm getting there,” says Theon as he shoves his trousers down to his ankles and kicks them aside, not bothering to take off his shirt and tie. He leers at the sight between Robb's legs. “Fuck, look at that poor little hole. So small and tight and neglected. Need me to pound it right open, do you?”

Robb moans and throws his head back. “Theon–“

“Shh baby.” And then Theon is on top of him, pushing Robb's legs up around his waist as he grinds his cock against Robb's thigh, making him shiver and squirm, trying to get it where he needs it. Theon kisses him, long and heavy and for all this roughness their kiss is loving, and Robb moans into it. “Is this how you want it?” Theon whispers against his lips. “On your back? Would you like to look me in the eye while he hold your legs in the air and screw you senseless?”

Robb groans and arches his back off the mattress, as pleased as he is frustrated. “God, does it matter?” he moans. “Do what you want, just please, put your cock in my arse, I don't care how I get it just–”

“But I care,” Theon tells him with another kiss, just a teasing peck. “After all, I've been neglecting your needs. I intend to make it up to you, and I intend to do it right. So tell me the truth.” He takes his cock in hand, and finally lines it up with Robb's arse; Robb squirms and gasps and mewls, his hole pulsing in need to get that inside him. “When you've thought about this... dreamed about it... when you've shoved anything you can find up your arse just so you can imagine that I'm giving you my cock... tell me, how have I done it?”

Robb whimpers, and he knows he has to answer the question. He's imagined Theon fucking him every way that's physically possible and a fair few ways that aren't, but he often comes back to–

“From behind,” he gasps.

Theon grins.

Robb finds himself tossed over onto his front faster than he thinks can be possible, but he's not inclined to complain. “Dirty slut. Want me to get in as deep as possible, is that it?” Robb just moans again as Theon's hands find his hips. “Arse in the air, good boy.” Robb does it immediately, offering himself completely lewdly, burying his face in the covers, and he can practically see the way Theon must be grinning at him when he's slapped hard on his arse. He gasps. “Fuck. I'm going to have to give you a proper spanking sometime. That redhead skin; you were made for it, and you've been bad, refusing to tell me what you want.” Robb whines and wriggles his hips desperately. He never gets told he's bad, and the word goes straight to his cock. He'd love Theon to spank his arse raw sometime, but now... “But I'll have to wait, because you need to be filled too badly, don't you?”

And he gasps as two of Theon's fingers find his hole, pushing in roughly, twisting to see how stretched he is. He thrusts back immediately, thinking _oh god, I have his fingers in me._ Theon curses under his breath. “Fuck. You know, you could have fingered yourself more thoroughly before sticking a beer bottle up your arse.”

Robb whines, hot and embarrassed. “I wasn't thinking straight,” he says.

Theon snorts. “Clearly.” Robb moans as a third finger pushes inside him, and the stretch of it stings a bit but it really does not matter to him right now. “Still. I'm getting more lube.”

He lets out a shuddering breath as Theon pulls back, leaving him empty again, and pushes his head up to look as Theon grabs the lube from the bedside table. He also starts fishing in the packet for a condom, and Robb makes a choked noise. “No, don't,” he blurts out before he really thinks about it, and Theon gives him a surprised look. Robb blushes. “I-I want to feel you come in me.”

Theon thinks this over a second, then shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Then he crawls back behind Robb on the bed, and Robb lowers his face into the duvet again, sticking his arse up even higher, shameless and needy and – he moans as Theon shoves three slick fingers back inside them and crooks them hard and fast, making him gasp and writhe, trembling as Theon's fingers find his prostate and tease it mercilessly, and his cock is so hard and wet he's dripping onto the bed.

“Theon – Theon – god, Theon–”

“S'alright, baby,” Theon murmurs, and then the fingers are gone, and Robb moans dismayed but he can feel Theon straightening above him, lining himself up, pressing a quick kiss to his back. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna give you what you need... love you...” and Robb just makes a strangled noise before Theon pushes in.

_Oh god._ It's _better_ ; indescribably, impossibly better, the heat of thick pulsing flesh and the strength of a human body behind it. “Oh fuck,” Theon moans as he pushes the head of himself through Robb's clenching muscle, and Robb tries to push his arse up even higher, aching for more. “Shit, Robb, you're so _tight_ ,” Theon tells him as he sinks in slowly, his cock big and firm and filling Robb so good, “so pretty... shit, Stark, I love you so much...”

Robb can only moan incoherently and beg for more. “Theon – Theon – more, god...”

Theon just grunts as he pushes himself in deep, almost down to his balls, and Robb gasps as his body spasms in pleasure. The head of Theon's cock is pressed right against his prostate and _oh god yes right there_. “Fuck,” Theon says, giving himself a moment to adjust, and then he gets to work, pushing in and out of Robb with quick, shallow thrusts to loosen him up. Robb can feel him rubbing against that spot inside him again and again and again, and he cries out and clings to the blankets for support. “You like that, Stark?” Theon asks him, and then Robb feels one of Theon's hands close around his cock, making him cry out again, louder. “That what your slut hole's been craving?”

Robb yelps and thrusts back as hard as he can, losing his mind under the pressure of Theon's cock and Theon's hand, little more than a drooling begging mess. “Yes, yes, oh god, Theon!” Theon's thrusts speed up, get more reckless, bordering on rough, and Robb fucking loves it. “Fuck, harder, baby, please, hard as you can, go deeper I need it...” and then he's reaching behind himself, spreading his arse open with his hands, offering himself as much as he can.

“Fuck!” Theon shouts and buries himself down to his balls, making Robb almost scream. “Fuck, you greedy, _greedy_ fucking whore.” And then he just _goes to town_ on Robb, thrusting in so hard and so deep he feels like he could split in half and it's so amazing, it's everything he's ever wanted and Theon is giving it to him, and Robb loves him so, so much.

He's wanted this so long and he's _finally_ getting it, so he knows he needs to hold on because it can't be over yet, but at the same time it's all so good as his body is spasming, trembling, all but screaming at him that he's close. _Please, just a little more, just hold on..._ but it's so hard with Theon so deep and big inside him, his arse feeling used and wrecked, his cock aching and pulsing in Theon's grip. But it's not until Theon's other hand moves, and Robb feels it slide in between his cheeks, Theon's thumb rubbing where his cock meets with Robb's stuffed hole, that it's all to much. Robb makes a choked noise as every muscle in him tenses, and then he really does scream; the world goes white as everything turns into the flash of blinding pleasure within him, radiating out from where Theon's still drilling his arse, and with Theon in him he just feels whole.

“Shit,” Theon whispers as Robb's orgasm fades, letting go of his softening cock. His thrusts slow down as Robb trembles through aftershocks, although Robb can feel Theon shaking with the effort it takes to hold back. “Robb, do you want me to – stop?”

“No!” Robb gasps, and to emphasise the point, he pulls his arse open even wider with his hands, earning a groan from Theon. “God, you can't. I need you in me. K-keep going, please, I want to feel you come in my hole–”

Theon moans and starts thrusting hard again, bucking in and out of Robb like a wild thing, like all Robb is is a hole to come in. Robb finds himself sobbing because he's so sore and so sensitive, it's almost too much to bear, but at the same time it's so, _so_ good. But it doesn't last long; he feels Theon's fingers dig hard into his hips as he buries himself deep and goes still. With a muted “fuck,” and then a _loud_ moan, Theon starts to come; Robb feels his cock pulse and then something warm, dripping out around his cock and down Robb's legs.

Robb's head spins with disbelief and joy. _He fucked me and came in my arse, he fucked me and came in my arse, he fucked me and came in my arse._

As both their bodies start to return to normal, and he starts to get his breath back, Robb hears a groan and feels himself guided onto his side, Theon still wrapped around his back, arms curling around Robb's waist and pressing gentle kisses along his shoulder blades. Robb sighs and leans back into the cuddle, squirming a little as he feels Theon's cock slowly soften inside him. “You haven't pulled out yet,” he comments idly.

Behind him, Theon chuckles. “Thought you wouldn't want me to,” he says. Then he pauses. “Do you want me to?”

“No. It's nice.” Theon sighs contentedly at that, but then, as the post-orgasm bliss starts to fade, Robb gets a little embarrassed. He hopes Theon won't get annoyed with him for wanting to be filled for too long. “Listen, Theon, I'm sorry about–”

“That's okay,” Theon dismisses him.

Robb makes an irritated noise. “You don't even know what I'm apologising for yet.”

“Yeah, but whatever it is, I'm sure it's not as big a deal as you think it is.” He pauses. “Okay, apart from the whole masturbating-with-a-beer-bottle thing. That was a bad idea, don't do it again, okay? I have the whole lecture about the dangers of makeshift sex toys memorised. The lecture you gave me, so I probably do reserve the right to be annoyed about that.”

Robb blushes deeply. “Sorry,” he says. “I really didn't plan that, and I've not done it before, I was just – cleaning, and then I got thinking, and then I got carried away–”

“Hey, hey. I said I reserve the right to be annoyed, not that I actually am. Relax.” Theon kisses his shoulder again, and sighs. “I mean, it's not like I having made bad sex-related choices in the past. And when you were begging me like that, I could tell you were... kinda desperate.” Robb blushes even more deeply, and Theon pause. “Robb, if you wanted me to fuck you that badly, you could have just asked. Why didn't you?”

Robb hesitates. It is, now he thinks about it, kind of hard to explain. “I... didn't want to make you feel bad,” he says. Behind him, Theon makes a puzzled noise. “It's just – I know what it was like for you, at first, wanting to be the one fucked. The way it still is, kind of. You get embarrassed about it. And I just, I want you to be comfortable, to get what you want and not have to feel ashamed, and I thought – if I said I wanted something different, you'd start worrying about again, you wouldn't want to ask me for it, you'd feel like you weren't meant to...” he trails off and then sighs. “It made sense in my head.”

Theon nods along over his shoulder, processing. “Okay...” he says. “But what about you, Robb? What about what you want?” And Robb's mouth hangs open. He doesn't really have a good answer to that. “Mate, love, if all I wanted was someone who'd fulfil my every filthy desire without shame or question – those exist, they're called prostitutes. But you're my boyfriend. I care about you. I love you. I want you to be satisfied.”

Robb blushes again. “I didn't want you to know I wasn't,” he mutters.

“Yeah, but you weren't, that's the thing,” says Theon. He sighs. “Listen: not that I don't appreciate your concern, but next time, just ask me for what you want, okay? I can always just say no.”

“...Alright,” says Robb. “But promise me you won't go all one-eighty on me, feel like you have to give me what I want all the time to make it up to me, okay?”

Theon scoffs. “That's your schtick Stark, not mine,” he says. Robb makes an offended noise. “My medium-term plan is just: go buy a double-ended dildo on Amazon. God's gift to bottoms everywhere.” Robb blushes faintly, but that does sound like a very reasonable solution. “In the short-term, we can just take turns, see what we feel like each night. We're grown-ass adults, I think we can manage it.”

Robb chuckles. “I'm not sure I've ever heard you identify yourself as _that_ before.”

“Hey, this getting-to-be-the-sensible-one-for-once is new and exciting for me. Might be going to my head,” Theon says. “And honestly, I was getting a bit top-curious anyway. I figured if I didn't fuck you sometime, I'd never know what I was missing out on. Just hadn't quite worked up the nerve to ask yet.”

Robb's jaw drops open in disbelief, and as best he can, he looks back over his shoulder to glare. “You tell me this _now_?!”

A pause, and then Theon just laughs at him. Robb can't quite keep back a smile himself. It is funny, in a deeply frustrating sort of way. “Sorry mate. Still. How long have you been wanting me to do this anyway?”

Robb blushes again, and turns his head back before he sprains his neck. “Um. I suppose I've always thought about it,” he says. After all, when they started all this years ago, he'd had years of fantasies of Theon fucking him to work with, and he'd been very surprised that his cocky, lewd, womanising best friend was such a bottom. “I guess it reached full-blown obsession status... a bit under six months ago?”

Silence. “Six months?”

Robb blushes deeper. “Shut up.”

“Seriously, _six months_?!” Theon sounds like he can't believe what he's hearing, and Robb groans. “And you never considered asking in that time? You didn't even think to go buy a toy to give me a hint?”

“Okay, I'm an idiot. Leave me alone.”

Theon laughs at that, and they fall into a comfortable silence, cuddling on the bed. “How did your job interview go, by the way?” Robb asks.

“Oh. Really good. I'm almost sure I've got the job,” Theon tells him, and Robb grins.

“That's great. Really, I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it when you came in–”

“That's okay. You had more pressing concerns,” Theon chuckles. Robb sighs and lets things go quiet again, on the edge of falling asleep, until his eyes drift over to the clock.

“It's almost five thirty,” he mutters miserably, and then reluctantly starts pulling away from Theon, whose cock is so soft only the tip remains in him. He shudders when it pops loose though, and that gives Theon enough time to catch him by the hips.

“Where do you think you're going, then?”

Robb sighs. “I have to make dinner, Theon.”

“Oh no you don't. That's what they invented delivery pizza for.” Robb's mouth opens. “And before you start lecturing me about how unhealthy that is, you just stuck a beer bottle up your arse, so you're not allowed to talk.” Robb shuts his mouth and turns bright red. He's starting to suspect he's not going to live that one down. “Anyway, one night isn't going to kill us, and you are going to be busy.”

Robb thinks he knows what his boyfriend's getting at. “Theon–”

“Hey, this doesn't mean I'm not going to be wanting your cock at other times. A lot of the time. But we'll get there,” he says, and he pulls Robb close. “Right now though, I have six months worth of arse-fuckings to make up you, and I plan on giving it my all. If you can still walk, then I haven't done my job thoroughly enough.”

Robb groans, but he can't deny how Theon's words have his cock perking back to life. As Theon starts to kiss and nip along his neck, Robb sighs and leans back against him, offering more of his skin. “You're an idiot,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, but I'm your idiot. And an idiot with a bloody great cock.”

* * *

Dinner with Theon's family, again. Neither of them was exactly looking forward to it, but still, Theon insisted they had to be able to celebrate him actually having a job too. Frankly, Robb has spent so much of the last week in bed with Theon and with the collection of sex toys Theon has managed to collect with alarming rapidity, that he wasn't sure he was going to make it, in that he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk. But he's just about managing, although he hopes Balon and Asha having noticed the distinct limp he's walking with.

He's on his way back from the bathroom when he realises, he's not that lucky. “So,” mutters Balon over his third whiskey, “I see you've been _celebrating_ him plenty this week, huh?”

“Dad,” Asha groans, and Robb stops, waiting to see how Theon will react. Theon – Theon _glares_.

“That's my boyfriend, Dad. Don't talk about him like that.” Balon blinks in surprise. After a moment, Theon shrugs. “'Sides. Not like he hasn't made me walk like that plenty of times.”

Balon looks like he just sucked a lemon, Asha laughs into her beer, and Robb has to smile to himself. Hey, they're figuring out this honesty thing. Maybe they are grown-ass adults.


End file.
